


Temptation

by SargBuckarooBarnes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hallucinations, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Revelations, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2713808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SargBuckarooBarnes/pseuds/SargBuckarooBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right before dying your mother revealed you are daughter of a man called Bobby Singer.<br/>The news come unexpectedly and, after she is gone, you decide to look for said man all over the country. This journey takes you into the Winchester's path and into a world much more complicated than the one you knew so far.<br/>The dangers of bonding with the infamous hunters seemed to bring new evil into your life, but a few discoveries lead you to believe that it could be your own curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"Mom, I'm home!" You yelled, taking your combat boots off and placing it next to the door mat. You threw your purse at the couch and waited for her to answer. She didn't.

You ran upstairs, storming in her room.

It was only a false alarm. Your mother was peacefully asleep. You sighed, relieved and stood on the door until you calmed down. Carefully not to wake her up, you walked towards the bed and took a wooden box out of her lap, placing it on the nightstand before covering your mother with the blanket. You kissed her forehead and let yourself fall on an armchair that was right beside her.

Your eyelids started growing heavier and, soon, you fell into a dreamless slumber.

.  
.  
.

You woke up jumping to the hoarse sound of her coughing. You quickly grabbed the towel you always kept next to the bed frame and gently swiped the blood away.

"I'm right here, mom." You comforted her, caressing her hair.

"(y/n)?" Her voice was terribly weak and, despite the fact she had her gaze on you, it was like if she couldn't focus on your face.

"Yes."

She caught your hand and squeezed it tight, breathing heavily. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh. It's fine, mom. You haven't done anything wrong."

Your mother was crying frantically and you didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry!" She repeated, widely sobbing.

"Stop crying. Everything is Ok." You said, stroking her cheek.

"Please, forgive me." Your mother cried out loud. You put the towel back in its location and closed your eyes.

You despised her hallucinations, it was almost impossible to calm her down whenever they started. She would talk about senseless things like monsters and darkness and would always apologize for God knows what.

You opened your eyes when she stopped talking. She had fallen asleep again. You sighed and tried to free your hand out of her grip. That was when you felt a small piece of paper between your hands. You held and unfolded it.

It was old and stained with some brownish fluid, but you could still read the words so clearly written.

I love you  
-Bobby

You glanced at your mother sleeping form and back to the paper. Your eyes stopped on the box she had never let you open. You had seen it before, but never felt the need to search through it before.

Bobby. Wasn't that the name she called in some of her worst nights? You wondered as you caught the box and placed it on your lap. You took a deep breath before pushing the lock and lifting the lid.

"Really? All those years you've hiding _photos_ from me?" You asked with a grin. There were outworn pictures of her youth. You couldn't help but notice how much she looked like you.

You started roaming through the pictures, but your fingers collided with something cold in the bottom of the box. You moved the photos aside and your smile faded when you saw what was it. A gun (Glock 9mm), a silver dagger and a flask.

"Since when does she drink?" You asked yourself, shaking the flask and frowning when you realized it was full.

You let the box between your legs and, eventually, decided to check the pictures. There were other people on the pictures, but one specific man accompanied your mother in most of them, usually at her side, holding her hand or hugging her waist.

In many of the photos there were guns or knives attached to her belt, what shocked you the most was seeing how comfortable she seemed with the weapons.

You took a picture of your mother and that man out of the box and turned it around.

_Bobby Singer and Mary (l/n)._ It said. _Successful vampire hunt._ It was dated with year you were born. All of the pictures were.

"No, no, no!" Your mother suddenly shouted, leaning across the bed to take the box from you. It ended up falling, all of its content spreading on the floor. She tried to get out of the bed.

"Mom!" You grasped her shoulders and slowly pushed her back down. "You can't get stressed. Calm down."

"You shouldn't have opened it! You shouldn't." She was freaking out, rocking back and forth with a disturbed look.

You stepped on the photos so you could sit at her side and hugged her, finally able to understand what she meant.

"I forgive you." You whispered and it was all it took to calm her down. She hugged you back, like she hadn't done in a long time. You went back to your armchair, conscious of your mother gaze on you while you collected everything. "So... Who's Bobby Singer?"

You glanced at her and saw she had a soft smile placed on her lips.

"Haven't you discovered it yet?"

"My father?" You tried, even though you had no doubts.

"Yes. We dated for three months not long after he became widower."

You put it all in the box and closed it, looking at her in surprise, only then the fact that she was lucid hit you.

"What happened?" You asked, making sure you took your opportunity to speak with her while you could.

"I got pregnant. I didn't want you to grow in that life, so I ran away."

"What life?" You didn't want to push her, but the urge to get the answers was greater.

"A Hunter's life"

"Well, killing animals is not something I would enjoy very much." You stated. She chuckled.

"No, dear. Not this kind of hunt. What we used to do was way more dangerous."

She looked to her hands, nervously playing with her fingers nervously.

"Well, I'm waiting." You said, resting your elbows on your knees and your chin on your hands.

"We hunted monsters."

You didn't questioned her directly, but inside you were wondering if she was losing lucidity again.

"Right. What kind of monsters?"

"Werewolves, vampires, witches, everything children fears and more."

You frowned. "Mom? Are you sure you're not hallucinating again?"

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"It's a little hard to." You admitted.

She sighed and stared at the ceiling. "I'm dying."

"Don't you dare say that!" You scolded her, sitting straight.

"It's true, darling. You know it."

"Mom! J-just don't say it, OK?"

She extended her arm and you held her hand.

"I want you to meet him."

"Meet who?"

"Your father. I have no idea where he is, hunters are always travelling, but I might know how to find him."

 

~ One week later ~

You entered your Mustang 72 and slammed the door. You took your black high heels off and threw it on the back seat.

The funeral had just ended and you left before everyone started giving you their condolences. The air felt heavy and all you wanted to do was run away. Which is exactly what you would do.

You had been planning it with your mother. She had told you everything you should know and given you the wooden box. 

You sighed and squeezed the wheel until your knuckles were white before staring the engine and looking up to the sky.

"You better be watching, mom." You mumbled, even after all you knew about ghosts and it was hard to believe she was still there, you needed some faith.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are, the first chapter of this series. I hope you like it and thank you for the kudos so far!

You harshly turned the wheel, stopping in the first parking spot you could find. The unfounded anger running through your veins like lava, burning your body and making your vision red. You closed your eyes and count to ten, a techinique your mother had taught you when you were throwing teenager fits. The memory brought tears to your eyes, which you quickly brushed away with your fingers. You sighed and rested your forehead against the steering wheel.

It was the second week and you hadn't got any closer to find your father. Your mother's notes were being almost useless. They led you to a closed bar called Roadhouse, you asked a few people about it and they informed it had been closed for a few months. Now you were parking in another cheap motel, with the money of your heritage, in a highway in Nebraska, moving north. 

You stepped out of the car, kicking the door shut before stretching your arms and legs and heading to your room. You threw your bag on the bed and moved directly to the shower, desperate for some sort of relief.

Once you're under the hot water, you let everything out. Every single tear you've been holding since you were 17 years old. That was when your life started going down the hill. You weren't the kind of girl with many friends, but the small amount of people you were close with faded away after death started taking everyone you loved from you. First it was your boyfriend, then your best friend, your aunt went right after that and now your mother was also gone. You were alone.

You knew finding Bobby Singer wouldn't change that. It wasn't like if he would simply welcome you as his long lost daughter, actually every time you tried to picture how your first encounter would go, it was awkward and embarrassing. Sometimes you even thought about giving up on your search, but, it was your mother's last wish, you had to find him. You turned off the water and sighed.

There was also the possibility nothing your mother told you was real. She could have been hallucinating again, maybe even Bobby was fake. You would only know if you kept looking. You wrapped a towel around your body and went back to the room, taking a soda from the fridge and falling on a chair. You opened the can and took a few sips before placing it on the table and leisurely leaning to reach the bag. You pulled it to your lap and unzip it to take your mother's old notebook. You browsed through it looking for anything that could have escaped your sight before.

After some minutes, the bag was back on the floor, you were eating some candies (absently throwing them at your mouth) and eagerly reading all your mother had written. You even found some silly poems that made you chuckle.

Your eyes stopped in one small note you hadn't seen before. You growled.

"How did I miss this?!" You asked to yourself, ripping the page and analyzing the address. It wasn't far. Less than seven hours by car, you guessed. But you were too tired to go anywhere. You would rest for the night and you were going to South Dakota in the morning.

You changed into you PJs, turned the lights off and climbed up the bed. It wasn't long before you were asleep, the exhaustion enough to knock you out.

~

The clock on the nightstand beeped. You rolled on the bed, pulling the pillow over your head, but the sound kept bothering your sleep. You growled and your hand groped your surroundings before finally shutting the alarm off with a punch.

You yawned and stumbled out of the bed, unfortunately your foot slipped and you ended up hitting the hard floor on your side. You hissed and got up, rubbing the sore spot on your arm.

"That's what I call waking up on the wrong side of the bed." You mumbled.

You dressed up on your usual outfit, grabbed your bag and headed out of the room. You dropped the bag on the hood of your car and, as routine, stretched your arms and legs, getting ready for seven more hours of driving.

Just as you were bending downwards, you heard a cough. You looked up to find a man staring at your legs with a smirk. You got up and glared at him.

"Watcha you looking at?" You spat angrily, folding your arms.

He chuckled and put his hands up in surrender. "Nothing." The man said, but his eyes drifted to your legs and his smirk grew. You were about to move towards him to teach him a lesson, when another guy leaned on the window of a beautiful Impala 67.

"C'mon. We gotta go." He said.

The man winked at you before sharply answering. "Don't rush me!" He entered the car, snapping the door shut and drove away towards the highway, but not without a second glance at you through the rear-view mirror.

You rolled your eyes at the guy's arrogance and threw your bag on the back seat. You petted the car, smiling softly. The one thing that never let you down. You sat on the front seat, putting the sheet you had ripped from the notebook on the dashboard.

"Please, mom. Help me out." You whispered, turning the engine on and driving north.

(To be continued...)


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter everyone!! Thank you for the kudos, feel free to leave some feedback.

During the whole way to Sioux Falls you had only made two stops, one for breakfast and other for lunch. You reached your destination before 5 p.m. and had to drive ten more minutes before finally finding the address.

A big outworn sign with the words Singer Auto Salvage led you to a few acres of ground covered in stacked, wrecked cars. You entered the path unhesitatingly. That had to be it, you knew you would find something in that place. You parked next to the front porch. Staring at the house for a moment. You didn't want to do that, you were scared and the flutter in your stomach made your fingers start playing with the hem of your shirt nervously.

Eventually, you got out of the car, knife and gun hidden in your pants, and started moving towards the door, your fingers still twitching. You hadn't been able to give two steps before someone attacked you, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back and wrapping an arm around your throat. You automaticaly held on to the arm with your free hand.

"Why are you following us?" A husky voice growled at your ear.

"Let me go!" You yelled, struggling to free yourself from his grip. You clawed your nails into his flesh until you knew you had applied pressure enough to draw blood from the scratches. The man hissed and tightened his grasp.

"Answer it!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, idiot!" You said, chocking with the effort.

"Dean, you're strangling her." Another voice came from behind you, much softer than the one in your ear.

"I don't care. She is after us for a reason, Sammy."

You would have rolled your eyes if you could, instead, you found some new strenght and harshly stepped on his foot before slamming your elbow against his flat stomach and pushing him away with your hips when his grip loosened on you.

"I said you should let me go!" You spoke, stroking your sore throat and turning around so you could face the attackers.

"Easy there, feisty girl." The one you had just escaped from said and you recognized his face.

"Wait a minute! You're that perv from the motel!" You stated, slightly confused.

"I'm not a perv!" He protested, looking pissed. The other one chuckled and you gazed at him, your eyes widening as you saw his whole body. He was much taller than what it seemed from inside of the car. 

They were both absolutely handsome guys, but much different from one another. Where the first had dirty blond short hair, freckles and bright green eyes, the other had brown locks, tanned skin and eyes colored between green and hazel. Beside their height distiction, of course. You shook your head to focus on what you had to say.

"Yes, you are. Now, would you mind explaining what the hell just happenned here?"

"I'm sorry about my brother. It's just that we are curious about why you have been following us." Sammy, the huge cute guy, answered.

"First of all, You're brothers?" You looked from one to the other in desbelief. "I didn't see that coming. Second, as far as I know, you were the ones following me."

They exchanged a look, like if they could undestand each other just with that. "I hate siblings telepathy." You muttered, rolling your eyes and taping your foot on the ground to call their attention.

"If no one was following no one... Why are you here?" The smaller one questioned. You stiffened and looked down, feeling uncomfortable.

"Not your bussiness." You sharply answered, turning on your heels and heading to the door. "I'm looking for Bobby Singer and only him." You added.

You knocked on the door, stepping back and waiting. You knew both brother had their eyes on you, you could feel their gazes burning on your back, only making the nervousness you felt worse. The door swung open and you looked at the face that had been haunting your dreams. He seemed some years older than in the pictures you had, but you could see the resemblance. Recognition flashed on his face and his jaw dropped.

"Mary?" He asked, shocked. 

The words simply ran away from your mind, you completely forgot how to talk for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath, you managed to stutter out a few words.

"Almost. That's my mother. My name is (y/n)."

"Well, then. You look a lot like your mother, kiddo."

"Thanks." You smiled sheepishiy. "Are you Bobby Singer?"

"The one and only. Want to come in?" He asked. You nodded, scared the words may fail. Bobby smiled and widened the door, looking at something behind you. "You two idjits too!" He growled at the brothers, making you giggle and follow him inside.

(To be continued...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Mary is the name of the Winchesters mother, but it's also a very common name, so bear with me.  
> Hopefully, I'll be able to post a new chapter soon.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read everything all over again and fixed a few mistakes beside adding some small details to the former chapters. Here you have the third installment of this series. There shall be another one tomorrow.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kudos!

You looked at your surroundings and smiled. The house was filled with junk and lots of books, but it felt comfortable. It felt like a home. You followed Bobby to the living room, he motioned to the couch. You sat down while he pulled the chair in front of the desk and did the same.

"Would you like something? Coffee, tea, beer?" He offered.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." You answered too quickly, your eyes on the brothers that were entering the room. Bobby shrugged and rested his back on the chair. You smirked slightly when you noticed the shorter brother was glaring at you, he was probably pissed you stepped on his foot. And elbowed his stomach. And called him a perv. Yeah, he had some reasons to be glaring.

"How is your mother?"

The question made you stiffen. You looked at Bobby's face and quickly descended you gaze towards the floor. You didn't know how to answer that, you hadn't spoke those words out loud yet and you felt it would only become reality once you did. It required a whole bunch of strenght, but you finally said it.

"She... passed away last week." Your voice was low and filled with sadness.

"Oh." Bobby paused, before giving you the pity look you hated so much. That reminded you why you left the funeral earlier. "I'm so sorry about that, kid. Your mother was a wonderful woman."

"She was." You agreed, trying to place a sincere smile on your face, but you ended up frowning. You sighed and looked down, tiredly rubbing your eyes.

"I'm guessing that's the reason you're here."

You felt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The moment you had been picturing for weeks had finally arrived. There you were, sat in your father's living room, facing him. You had practiced the same speech in font of a mirror many times, but, now that it was real, you couldn't bring the words to life. 

Your mother had said she wanted you to meet him, she never mentioned telling him the truth.

"Not exactly." You answered. "I really don't know how to say this..." You didn't feel comfortable about discussing anything while the two other men stared, you glanced at them and back to the floor. Bobby must have noticed it. "Oh, yeah. (y/n), Those are Dean and Sam Winchester. Sorry if one of those idjts was rude to you."

"We thought she was following us! Of course I was rude!" Dean stated. Sam rolled his eyes. You narrowed your eyes.

"Are you sons of John Winchester?" You asked, curiously. They exchanged a look before returning their attention to you.

"Yes. You know him?" Sam questioned, furrowing his brows.

You shrugged. "Not really. But mom showed me some pictures. She used to hunt with him. That's what she said, at least."

"Pictures, hm? I remember Mary always had a camera with her, she used to say she was _perpetuating the moment_." Bobby folded his arms and grinned.

"She never told me that." You mumbled, frowning. Of course. There were many things she hadn't told you.

"I know you probably don't wanna talk about it, but... How did it happen? Hunt accident?"

"No. She stopped hunting when I was born" You answered. "She was sick."

"From all the people..." He shook his head and smiled. "Mary was one I always thought would die hunting."

"How do you know about hunting, then?" Dean suddenly asked, you looked at him and back at Bobby.

"That's why I'm here. Actually, I don't."

"What do you mean?" Bobby scratched his chin absently, not quite catching what you were trying to say. Not that you knew what you wanted to say, anyway.

"Mom only told me about hunting a week before she passed away. I believe she had been trying to tell me for a long time, but I figured every time she mentioned monsters it was only part of her hallucinations." You paused with an exhausted sigh. "I was wrong."

"If you're not a hunter, how did you..." Dean started asking, but then he simply growled and moved towards the next room. "Whatever." He said.

You quirked an eyebrow, questioning him. Sam chuckled.

"He is mad you managed to escape him." The tall man explained when he saw your confused expression. You grinned.

"Even though I'm not a hunter, I believe my mother taught me some stuff for my own good. She used to say I should know basic defense in case it was ever necessary." You said. Bobby nodded.

"That sounds wise, something Mary would do." He replied. "You haven't told us what brought you here yet, though."

"Yeah, right! Sorry, I got lost in the track." You gave him an apologetic look. "Like I was saying, she introduced me to the hunting world. Now... I don't know if I really can go back to my life knowing there could be a demon, or a ghost right across the street."

By the look Bobby gave you, you knew he understood. Dean came back, three beers in his hands. He threw one to Bobby and gave another to Sam. "You didn't want it, right?" Dean asked, not really caring about your answer and opening his own bottle.

"Nope."You answered without even glancing at him. "I want to be trained. I want to be a hunter." You confessed.

Bobby frowned, thinking about the subject while opening his beer. You looked at him, eyes full of hope.

"Hell no!" Dean almost shouted. "You have no idea what you're getting into. You are young and haven't lost anyone because of any danm monster. This is not a game, kid."

When Bobby called you that it was nice, but when Dean did, it felt... odd. You faced him, folding your arms.

"I know exactly what I'm doing, jerk." You angrily replied and, if looks could kill, Dean would be more than dead by now. "I've lost everyone I ever loved. Lately, I've been living for my mother, but she's gone now. I don't wanna waste my life anymore, I just wanna do something that feels like I'm helping." As you spoke, you had also restarted rubbing your eyes. You hadn't realized how tired you were until you sat on that couch. You growled and placed your hands on your lap. "I'll do that with or without help." You said, moving your eyes over all the three of them.

"And how do you plan to start, genious?" Dean questioned before Sam or Bobby could open their mouths.

"As I proved to you, I can fight and my aunt taught me how to shoot. I'm pretty sure I can find a case on my own if I pay enough attention to the news. How about that, moron?"

"It's not that simple! And, just for the record, you caught me off guard!" He growled, taking a third of his beer in one sip. "You know what? I don't care, do whatever you friggin' wanna do. She is all yours!" Dean said, once more leaving the room. "Stubborn bitch." You heard him mumbling while walking away.

You closed your hands into fists and suppressed the will of getting up and punching him. You've always dreamt of punching someone, you just never had the chance, maybe today would be your big day. You glared at his back until he was out of your sight.

"Sorry about Dean, he is not really good expressing... anything." Sam apologized. You smiled at him.

"So... You said with or without us." Bobby looked from you to the taller brother. "Whatcha think Sam?"

"I think we will train her." He answered, taking a sip of his beer. Your smile grew even wider.

"Really?"

Bobby sighed. "I can't let Mary's daughter kill herself. You need a proper training and that's what I'm going to give you."

You beamed, jumping up and hugging him. He was shocked at first, but when he finally answered your embrace, it felt good. It felt just like his house. It felt like home. You retreated as soon as you realized how long you had been hugging him and did the same to Sam.

"Thank you so much!" You said to both of them.

(To be continued...)


	5. Chapter 4

When they agreed on training you, you thought things would get rough, you thought they would expand your fighting and shooting skills and teach you loads of new techniques. You couldn't have been more wrong. You certainly weren't expecting returning to 'school'. 

You had been on Bobby's for almost three weeks and were craving for some action, when all they let you do was studying. Sam and Bobby exchanged shifts to teach you, while Dean would simply ignore you or make annoyed sounds whenever you were around. 

The brothers left several times to hunt and in those times you usually spent time with Bobby, which was surprisingly nice considering the time he spent researching to help the boys on their job. You also helped, not only on the cases, but taking care of housework. You practically became their official cook. Dean never complimented your food, but you knew he liked it just by the pleased look on his face while he was eating.

Punching Dean was a thought that never left your mind, but you let it buried deep inside since he hadn't done anything to bother you, aside ignoring you completely, of course.

Sam and Dean had returned on the previous day from a simple hunt, that's why, in the next morning, Sam and you were sitting around the dinner table for your daily studies. As usual, you weren't really listening to whatever he was rambling about. 

You played with your dagger under the table, twisting it between your fingers or throwing it from one hand to another, your mind wandering on how much you needed some action to release the frustration of being sat during most of your time.

"(y/n)!" Sam's voice took you out of your reverie. You eyes quickly moved to his.

"Sorry, what was it?" You asked, worried you might have missed something important.

He sighed. "Did you listen to anything I talk in the last hour?"

"... Yes." You lied, smiling.

"Really? So, tell me, how do we kill a wendigo?"

"Ahn... We use silver?" You took a guess, glancing at the silver dagger that you held under the table.

"That would do if we were talking about shape-shifters or werewolves, (y/n)." Sam looked at Bobby, who had been watching from the corner of the room. "Help me out, please."

The older man smiled. "Why don't you try taking that dagger from her? It might help her to focus on you." He suggested.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily.

"I took that dagger from you yesterday." He stated, folding his arms.

"You did." You innocently replied, a playful grin displaying on your face. He glared at you.

"I hid it."

"Yes."

"But you found it anyway."

"I did." You nodded, muffling the giggle that threatened to leave your lips. You could see how mad Sam was, but if that meant a break from the studies, you didn't mind one bit.

He stood up, almost dropping his chair with the sudden movement. "Ok, I'm done with you and your behavior. If you want to act like a child, I'll treat you like a child."

Your eyes widened when Sam approached you with his jaw clenched in anger.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" You quickly tried to to redeem yourself by apologizing and also standing up, but it didn't make much difference since he was much taller than you. Sam extended his hand.

"Give me the dagger." He ordered.

You shook your head.

"Don't make me take it from you!" 

You were terrified, but the possibility of finally having some action made you smirk. You twisted the dagger in your hand and glanced at him.

"Well, you'll have to." You said, preparing yourself to run. You a saw a spark on his eyes.

"I warned you." It was all he said before running after you.

"Hey! No mess in my house!" Bobby shouted, but you were already far away. "Idjts." He muttered.

You were fast, but Sam had those damned giraffe's legs, so it wasn't a surprise that, as soon as you got out of the house, he reached you, wrapping you in a bear hug and taking you out of the floor.

"Sam!" You yelled, laughing.

He laughed too, taking the dagger out of your hand and throwing it away before tackling you to the ground and locking you there by sitting on your tummy and holding your wrists above your head.

"Ouch! You're crushing me!" You complained, struggling to get rid of him, your laughter never ceasing.

"It is a well deserved punishment." Sam said.

"Please! I can't breath!" You theatrically gasped for air, making him laugh.

"You two kids done playing?" You heard someone's voice coming from the door. Dean was standing there with his arms folded. You rolled your eyes.

Sam got up and helped you do the same. Your gaze met his.

"Fire, isn't it?" You asked. He frowned, confused.

"What...?"

"Wendigos. We use fire."

Sam nodded, smiling down at you. "I guess you listened to more than I thought."

"Actually... It was my second guess."

He sighed. "You're impossible!"

"I know. Sorry." You grinned, pushing his side with your shoulder.

"I'm tired of just seeing you ruining the girl." Dean said, moving closer.

"What are talking about?" Sam questioned.

"She obviously could be a great fighter, but you and Bobby are trying to make she a nerd!" He stated, motioning towards you.

"Dean, she needs to learn about what she will hunt, before learning how." Sam replied.

"You know I'm right here, don't you?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

"We already have a nerd in the team, let me teach her the good stuff!" Dean grinned and your jaw dropped. He never had a single conversation with you and still looked thrilled with the possibility of training you? That was odd.

"I talked about it with Bobby, I'm not going to discuss it with you."

"Like I said before, I'm here. You should ask me what I think." You suggested, waving your hand in front of their faces. Dean met your gaze for the first time and you noticed how... green his eyes were.

"Tell him, then. I've been watching and I know you're not the kind of hunter to stay behind the books."

You smiled and looked to Sam.

"I agree with him. I'm seriously tired of being treated like a high school student."

"Really?" He asked.

You nodded.

"Fine." Sam said, ruffling your hair.

"Hey!" You protested and tried to tame the mess he had done. He chuckled.

"Take care of her!" He mumbled to his brother before returning to the house.

Dean smirked and silently measured you up, making you self conscious.

"Would you mind waiting a minute?" You asked.

"What for?"

"Just wait here. I'll be right back." You said, running back to the house and towards the guest room you were staying in. You quickly changed into some sportive wear and put your hair up. You ran downstairs, passing by an astonished Sam and a confused Bobby.

"I'm ready!" You told Dean. He, once more, checked you from head to toe and nodded in approval.

"The thing about being a hunter is that you can't learn it on books. The real stuff is here, you need to think fast and forward." He spoke. "Got it?"

"Yep. Can we do something fun now?"

Dean smirked.

"Sure. Let's try it out. I want you to gimme your best shot."

You lit up, almost jumping in excitement.

"Can I?"

"Go ahead."

"Great, because I've been wanting to do that ever since I met you." You beamed and, in one swift movement, punched his face using all your strength. 

(To be continued...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that, one more chapter gone by!
> 
> Thanks for any new kudos!
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, huh?  
> I appreciate all the kudos, thank you guys and sorry about the waiting. Next chapter will be out sooner.

First you registered the pain as your knuckles hit his jaw, then the disgusting noise it did, and finally the satisfaction of seeing his face contorted in shock and pain.

"Son of a bitch!" He yelled. You bursted into laughter. Dean placed his hand on his chin and massaged it. "I think you just dislocated my jaw."

"Please. I barely touched you." You innocently blinked. He glared at you.

"Where did you learn to punch like that?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"I guess it was instinctive..." You shrugged.

"And you expect me to believe that?" Dean asked. "Seriously! You might have damaged my pretty face!"

"It wasn't that pretty. I think it's better now, actually." You joked, smirking at him.

"Ha-ha. It's funny you're the one saying that, butt-face." He mocked you.

"Oh, Winchester. You asked for it." Your voice was low and dangerous. You got him by surprise when your knee slammed against his crotch, making him groan and shrink, unable to say anything. You patted his head, now in the same level as yours and met his glare with a warm gaze. "Hope you learned your lesson."

Unfortunately that was one of the last times you managed to hit Dean Winchester. After he recovered, the training really started. Dean easily dodge all your attempts of getting to him. It was extremely frustrating not being able to knock him down.

Every time you were near, he would easily catch you and pin you, sometimes against him, others against the ground.

This cycle repeated during the next days, until they got a new case. Bobby was the one in charge of teaching you about guns while they were gone. And you learned quite fast.

"Good, now that it is loaded, aim it thought the rear and front sights."

"Okay." You said, taking a deep breath and pointing to the can. 

"Pull the hammer." Bobby slowly instructed. You did as he told, listening to a click. You glance at Bobby side way and smiled sheepishly. He was your father. That thought made you happier. Bobby noticed your lack of attention. "Focus, kid."

"Yeah, right. Sorry." You quickly apologized returning your gaze to the target. You could see him nodding with your peripheral view.

"Now, shoot."

You pulled the trigger, slightly taken aback with the intensity, the sound making you flinch, but nonetheless, you hit the target. You beamed, twisting around like a small child.

"Hey, hey! You gonna shoot somebody with that gun! Remember what I told you." Bobby scolded you.

"Keep the gun down, yeah, I remember. Sorry." You said, still grinning, but lowering the weapon. He rolled his eyes, but a small smile could be seen on the corner of his lips.

"You did well, (y/n)."

"Thanks." You replied.

"Repeat that." Bobby commanded. You frowned, but followed his order.

"I'm hungry." You complained, pouting slightly.

"You can go back inside once you knock all the cans."

"Oh, c'mon! You know that was beginner's luck. I won't get it down again so soon."

"So you better rush." He folded his arms, not buying your whining. You sighed.

"Fine. But you cook today."

Bobby laughed.

In less than six months they taught you mostly everything needed to know. You could easily answer their question and were really helpful during research, you could almost beat Dean down and you could shoot correctly. That led you to the current discussion, more of an argument with your three mentors.

"What does my training serve for if I can't hunt?" You shouted at Dean, who was leaving the room, refusing to face you. "You were the one who said I can't learn it from books, that the real thing was out there!"

"(y/n)! We already discussed that. You're not going." Bobby said from his spot on the dinner table. You growled.

"No, we didn't discuss anything. You just forbid me."

"I actually agree with her. I mean, she did learned a lot and she should put it on practice." Sam said, uncomfortable with Bobby's glare towards him.

"Thanks, Sam. See? He got my point. Why can't you two do the same?"

"Damn it, (y/n)! I'm not letting you go out there and get hurt!" Dean shouted, heading back to the room. He was furious and it made you stop arguing for a few seconds. 

"That's not what your mother would want. You wanted your training, you had it. But I can't let you go hunting." Bobby spoke. 

"You said it was a simple salt 'n' burn. I've been training for half a year and I can't even go on a mere salt 'n' burn?"

"Again, she has a point." Sam helped you out. You smiled at him and stroked his arm lightly, thanking him with the gesture. He smiled back at you.

"Will you shut up, Sammy? You're not helping!" Dean said. You rolled your eyes.

"Whatever. I'm an adult. I told you I would do it with or without your help. Thank you for everything." You harshly said, turning on your heels and moving towards the door.

"Hell no! I won't let you do that!" Dean grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to stay still. "We will lock you in the panic room if that's necessary."

"Let me go, Dean!" You yelled, trying to kick him, but Dean merely turned you around and held your wrists on your back.

"No!"

"Guys, you are overreacting." Sam tried to help you.

"Damn it! I just wanted to do something for once!" You screamed, clenching your jaw when hot tears started to blur your vision. "I'm useless, I've watched everyone I loved die and couldn't do anything about it." You whispered, sobbing and falling to your knees, Dean kept holding you. You cursed yourself mentally for drinking too much beer only a few hours before that, it was definitely making you sentimental.

"And then what? Sammy and I were hunters. Do you think we just go and save everyone we love? No! We also had to see them die!"

"At least you have one another! I have nothing! I have no fucking family!" You shouted back, crying even more. Dean froze. He knew you were right.

"No." Sam was the one who saved the day. "You have us."

He kneeled next to you. You hugged him and Sam softly patted your back in response.

"He is right. We are your family now." Bobby said, getting up and approaching you. Sam helped you to get on your feet so you could also hug Bobby.

You wrapped your arms around him and burried your face on his chest. He awkwardly answer it. You giggled, realizing how Bobby wasn't used to all that affection. You withdrew, smiling at him and quickly wiped the tears away.

"Sorry about that, I'm a little bit dizzy from the beers. It makes me emotional." You said, laughing. "I still wanna go on that hunt, though."

(To be continued...)


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' first appearence ahead!

You woke up early on the next morning, shoving some clothes in your bag, with your gun, knife, holy water flask and a recently acquired crossbow (You never know what you might need). You dressed up in some comfy jeans, tank, gray sweater and your black boots, before running down the stairs.

You frowned when you saw the brothers getting ready to the hunt with Bobby's assistance.

"I knew it!" You shouted, startling them.

"H-hey, (y/n). We... We were just about to wake you." Sam stumbled with the words, trying to explain.

"Don't lie to me, Winchester. I know you were trying to sneak out so I wouldn't go with you!"

Bobby sighed. "Are you sure you want to go, kiddo?"

"Yep." You popped the p, grinning at them.

"Fine." Dean was the one who spoke. You looked at him, surprised.

"Excuse me? Did you just agree with me?" You mockingly asked. He rolled his eyes and smiled.

"I did. At least you're ready, so we won't have to wait." Dean said, pointing to your bag. You nodded, beaming at him. "Good."

They grabbed their bags and left the house, you right on their trail. You quickly peck Bobby on his cheek.

"Bye, Bobby. See ya."

"Stay safe." He shouted, before you slammed the back door. 

You checked the car in front of you and gave it a low whistle.

"Man, this car is something." You murmured before climbing into the back seat of the Impala.

"I know, baby here is awesome!" Dean apparently heard your remark and replied looking at the wheel lovingly.

"I still prefer my Mustang, though." You quickly said. He started the car and glanced at you through the rear view mirror.

"I don't have anything against it, but you can't compare. Baby will always be the best."

"I suppose it depends on the owner. I love that car because of the memories."

Sam exchanged a look with Dean and then gazed you.

"I think you're right." He said. Dean growled something about nothing being better than baby and kept his eyes on the road.

After a few minutes you started growing impatient. "Could you turn on the radio or something? I'm kinda bored..." You barely finished your sentence when Dean inserted a tape. You quirked an eyebrow.

"A cassette, really? You're that old?"

Sam burst out laughing and you smirked devilishly when Dean glared at you. Unfortunately, you soon regret saying that.

"I love that song! Turn up the volume!" You happily shouted when Def Leppard started blasting through the speakers.

"What happened with 'that old'?" He quoted you, smirking. You rolled your eyes, but smiled, resting your head on the seat and singing along with the song.

It didn't take long before Dean joined you singing and, pushed with the tide, so did Sam. You laughed every time you missed a note or strummed.

"Oh, God." You breathed when the song was over, but let a high pitched scream out when you realized the next song was "Wheels" by AC/DC. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that's what you listen to?" You asked Dean, hitting the back of his head.

"Ouch! You never asked."

"Why don't I get to pick the songs at least once?" Sam questioned.

"You know the rule." Dean said.

"What rule?" You asked.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." He proudly said at the same time Sam mimicked with a grimace, making you laugh.

"You are two idjts." You said, shaking your head.

Dean and Sam started laughing as soon as the words left your mouth, you wondered what you had said wrong. "What?" You questioned.

"And you really are part of the family." Sam spoke. You looked at him quizzically.

"It's like if you were Bobby's daughter. You even got his accent!" Dean said. Your smiled faded and you felt your face heating up as the blush crept onto your cheeks. You tried to fake your laugh, but it was shaken and too forced.

"Dean..." Sam quietly elbowed his brother, noticing how you suddenly got mude.

"What was... Oh." Dean started to question, but Sam motioned to you and both of them stared at your shrunk form on the back seat through the rear view. They silenced.

"So, (y/n). You never told us how your mother met Bobby." Dean blurted. Sam facepalmed.

"Why do you wanna know?" You asked, nervously chewing on your lower lip.

"Just curiosity." He shrugged.

"I don't really know." You answered the truth. Your mom never told you how they met, just about their relationship as hunters.

"Did Bobby date your mother?" Dean asked buntly. You gasped and your eyes widened.

"Really, dude? Smooth." Sam whispered towards his brother. You wished you could just disappear, so you wouldn't have to answer to that.

"Oh, come on, Sammy. Don't pretend you're not dying to know." He whispered back and smirked, when Sam's face betrayed him for a milisec, but he quickly recomposed and gave his brother one of his famous bitch faces. "That's what I thought..." Dean was about to press you for an answer, when there was a flutter of wings.

You screamed when you saw a man sitting next you.

"What the hell?!" You shouted before pulling your mother's dagger and straddling his lap, pressing it against his throat. "Who are you?" You asked through your clenched jaw.

There was a moment of tension before Dean finally said: "That was probably the hottest thing I ever saw." You bit your lip to prevent the laughter.

"I'm Castiel, Angel of the Lord." The man under you spoke.

"Oh. So you are the famous Castiel." You stated, tilting your head.

"And you must be (y/n)." He said with a grumphy voice. You smiled.

"Yeah, that would be me."

"That's weird." Sam said, frowning.

"What?" You asked.

"You realize you're still sitting on his lap, right?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." You mumbled, flushing and returning to your inicial position, putting the dagger back in your boot.

"What brings you here, Cas?" Dean asked.

"I come to warn you." He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the kudos and comments, it makes my days! Thank you!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a very long break, I'm back! And here it is, another chapter for you! Thanks for the kudos!

"There are demons after you. A group to be more specific." Castiel explained, his face emotionless.

"And what's the big news? They are always after us." Dean smirked.

"Not you. Her." The angel signed at you.

"Me? Why would someone be after me?" You questioned, worriedly.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, but a great amount of demons seem to be working together to get to you."

"She has never even hunted before." Sam contested, turning around on his seat so he could face Castiel. "It doesn't make any sense."

"It is dangerous not only for her. Since it was discovered she had been grouped with you, she is not the only prey anymore."

His words made you feel extremely guilty. The Winchesters, and maybe even Bobby, were being hunted because of you. You sighed.

"I-I'm sorry." You murmured.

"Hey!" Dean said, frowning. "You don't get to apologize yourself." He scolded you and you quickly shifted your gaze down. "If you're being followed by demons it means you did something right. Never apologize for that."

You glanced up and met his green eyes on the mirror. You smiled gratefully. Dean winked at you and looked back to the road.

"Relax, (y/n). We are... used to this." Sam added, your smile grew wider. 

"We're gonna discover what's going on, kill whatever is after you and you'll be just peachy." Dean conforted you.

You were really glad you had those brothers at your side. You leaned from your seat, streching the seat belt and kissed each one of them on the cheek. Sam sent a small smile towards you.

"No moving around in the Impala. Back to your seat." Dean ordered, but you caught the glimpse of a smug grin on his face before complying.

"Is there anything else you know, Castiel?" You asked. The man looked at you slightly surprised, like if you shouldn't adress him. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head solenmly. "No. I'm just not used anymore to humans using my entire name unless it is an emergency. It's been only Cas lately."

"I can call you Cas if you want." You said, not sure of what else to say, since the angel didn't show much emotions.

"You may use any of them." He simply stated and you thought you saw the corner of his lips twitching upwards for a second. "And, aswering your question, I don't have any additional information, but I'll see what I can find out. I must go now." 

And, just as he appeared, Castiel was gone. You looked to the spot where he was sitting only seconds before in shock and turned to the Winchesters.

"Does he always do that?"

"Yep."

"Pretty much." Both brothers answered at the same time. You shrugged and rested back on your place.

"Ok. I'm taking a nap. Wake me when we get there." You said.

 

*Time skip brought to you by Morning Star*

 

"Hey, sleeping beauty, time to rise and shine." Someone called out. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids and burying your face on the soft material under your head. It smelled like leather, whiskey and rain.

"(y/n). We're here." Another person said and you felt a hand taking your hair out of your face. Your blinked repeatedly, trying to push the sleepiness away. You found Sam's hazel eyes right from the front seat.

"Oh. Hi." You spoke groggy. He chuckled.

"C'mon. Let's move you to a bed." Sam said, leaving his spot and reappearing oppening the door next to you. You were startled when he wrapped one arm around your waist and the other under your knees, lifting you up bridal style. You grunted, missing the smell of rain, but feeling his warmt against your body offset it.

Sam carefully tucked you in a bed. "Go back to sleep. We will make the reserch to find her remains, but I promise I'll wake you up before the salt'n'burn." You nodded without opening your eyes and went back to your peaceful slumber

 

*Time skip brought to you by the King of Hell*

 

You stretched your arms up, hitting a wall and hissing, quickly sitting up to rub your sore hand. You heard a deep low chuckle and looked up. Dean was on the other side of the room, reading something in a notebook and drinking a beer. He pretended not noticing you were awake, but you knew he was laughing at you. You grabbed a pillow and threw it on the back of his head. "Morning, asshole." You said, grinning when Dean glared at you.

"What was that for?"

You shrugged. "Laughing at people's misfortune is really rude."

He rolled his eyes half-heartedly and smiled. Dean threw the pillow back at you, but you easily caught it, quirking a brow. "That's the best you can do?"

"You haven't seen anything yet, sweetheart." He smirked mischievously, standing up and walking to you. Damn it. You mentally cursed for stirring him and braced yourself for the impact. Dean climbed up on the bed and started tickling your sides.

"N-no, no. Ple-Please, stop, D-dean! Please!" You begged, squirming and laughing out loud. You tried to escape or at least tickle him back, but you were helplessly, caged under his fingers. "Stahp!"

Eventually, he let go of you, sitting beside your laid form. You recovered your breath, before sitting up and punching his arm.

"Not nice, man. Not nice." You complained, folding your arms. Dean rubbed the spot you had just hit and smirked. The silence then surrounded you, but it wasn't discomfortable, it was nice.

"We are your family now." He quietly spoke, not daring looking in your eyes. "I should have said that when Sam and Bobby did, but I was just... too mad to speak. Not with you. I was mad at me and I don't even know the reason." Dean shook his head, chuckling. 

"Better late than never." You said, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing, I'm just messing up with everything!  
> Anyway, yes, there will be action, fight, some fluff and other cute stuff soon.
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> The only thing that belongs to me is the plot.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, two chapters in one day!

"Ok. That's enough. I don't do chick flick moments." Dean stated. You giggled.

"Right." You replied, letting him go and standing up. You walked to the small table and sat in front of the laptop, checking what he'd been looking at. You glanced at him, realizing Dean was watching your movements and smirked. "But I know you gave me your jacket to use as a pillow and that was absolutely cute, Dean." You mocked. He glared at you. "What? Thought I wouldn't notice it?"

You shrugged, leaning on your elbow and reading the news opened on the laptop's browser. "Ugh! This guy was definitely obsessed with the girl." You commented.

"Yeah. They never found her heart."

"Psychopath boyfriend. Typical."

He grinned, rolling his eyes. "The girl is haunting men, murdering them. Many bodies were found the same way she was."

"You mean... ripped heart?"

Dean nodded and moved to sit next to you. "All of them."

"Nice. Vengeful spirit it is." You stated, crossing your ankles under the chair.

"The girl's body was cremated."

"Then our job is basically find the heart?"

"Yep."

"Piece of cake?" You asked hopefully.

"Nope."

You sighed. "Why?"

"Which part of 'they never found it' you didn't get?"

"Dang."

"Watch your mouth, kiddo." Dean joked at your choice of word instead of an actual curse.

"Don't mock me! I keep the filthy language for suiting occasion." You protectively said, scowling. He laughed.

You heard the key entering the locker and looked to the door, watching as Sam opened it and got in, closing the door behind his back. He smiled softly.

"Hey, (y/n). Good to see you up." Sam said. "I brought some grub." He placed a bag on the table and you and Dean almost jumped toward it. "There's food for everybody! No need to kill each other!" Sam chuckled, sitting on his bed and taking off his shoes. You reached the bag first, pulling it to your lap.

"Stop pouting, Dean. You'll get your pie." You spoke, without even glancing at him, but feeling his intense glare at you.

You buried your arm on the bag and squeaked when you found your meal. You pulled it out and threw the bag at Dean before getting up and climbing on Sam's bed. You sat next to him, resting your back on the bed frame.

"You went out just to get us food or you found anything?" You asked, unwrapping your burger.

"The guy who murdered Sarah, Henry, was arrested and killed himself in jail." Sam explained, as you started eating.

"We won't get nothing from him." You completed after swallowing another bite. "But she must be bounded to a place, right? Where did the deaths happened?"

"That's the big deal, this ghost is strong enough to leave the place. There have been men murdered in an entire neighborhood."

"Crap." You said.

"But..."

You jumped up, kneeling next to him. He giggled at your excitement.

"I interviewed some people on the street and discover that Henry grew up in that neighborhood."

"Great! Let's go burn the heart!" You practically shoved the rest of the burger in your mouth and ran to your bag.

Dean had half of his own burger to go. He frowned. "How does she do that?" He asked with a mist of disgust and fascination. Sam chuckled.

"I have no idea." He hadn't even started his salad.

You dressed your "hunter" jacket, that, besides being nice and comfy, had pockets enough to hide all your weapons or tricks, which included a gun, a pistol, two knifes, a flashlight, your mother's dagger and flask. You checked your itens twice and stood in front of the brothers.

"C'mon, slugs. We have a ghost to hunt." You said, kneeling to tie your shoes.

"I'm not going to waste a perfect cheeseburger just because you want to hurry!" Dean said with a mouthful. You pretended to gag.

"First, close your mouth. Second, who said anything about waste? Just eat it!" You said and, as soon as he took the last bite, you pulled him up and pushed him toward the door.

"Hey! I'm not done!"

"You can eat that pie later." You said, glancing over your shoulder while you opened the door.

"If I knew you were going to be a pain in the ass, I wouldn't have brought you."

"But you did, now deal with it." You replied. "Come on, Sam!"

"I'm right after you." The younger brother said.

~ 

"You sure no one is living here?" You questioned, peeking through the shatered window's glass.

"Yes, (y/n). That's the third time you ask that. Trust me, ok?" Sam answered, forcing the door with his shoulder.

"Why don't you just break the lock... I mean, people will notice if you literally break the door."

"Because the door is not locked, just jammed."

You glanced around the street when Sam pushed the door for the second time and ended up meeting Dean's eyes. He watched you, amused with your reaction.

"What?" You spat, clenching your jaw.

"You're nervous." Dean stated.

"Adorably nervous, if I may add." Sam said, not really looking at you, though you could see his smile. You flushed, looking down.

"Nah. Just nervous." Dean said, smirking.

"Of course I am! We're breaking into someone's house!"

"Yeah, a house that has been abandoned for near a decade."

"It's still against the law."

"(y/n)... How many laws do you think hunters break on a daily basis? It's part of our job."

Meanwhile, Sam had pushed the door two more times, finally able to open it. You giggled when he stumbled inside.

"There goes our plan of being unnoticed." You said, pulling the gun (loaded with rock salt shots) and the flashlight and carefully entering the house. Dean was the last one. The dust on the windows was so thick, the only light illuminating the room came from the entrance.

Dean signaled he was going upstairs and exchanged one of his brother's looks with Sam before ascending. You followed Sam to the next room, flashing the light up with one hand and aiming the gun with the other.

"Clear." You quietly said. Sam nodded and checked the bathroom, while you, absentmindedly, wandered to the kitchen. You looked around and were about to go back to the living room, when the double doors flew closed.

"(y/n)!" You heard Sam's voice coming from the other side and saw the knob being twisted forcefully.

You turned around, pressing your back to the doors. The ghost was probably trying to keep you away from the man so she could kill them.

"I'm fine." You spoke toward the doors. "You should be the one to wor..." You gasped when a woman materialized in front of you.

Your first reflex was to shoot, but it was too late. The gun was thrown by an invisible force to the other side of the kitchen and you were pinned to the wall. She smirked.

"Just like I planned!" The woman said. "It's been a long time, (y/n)."


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate very much all the kudos and comments, you're awesome guys!

You looked in shock to the woman with short raven hair, big blue eyes and porcelain skin that stared at you with folded arms. She dressed in a formal tight black dress, way too trendy for someone who died over 10 years ago.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

"Oh, yes, my dear. You do." She answered, nodding slightly. You tried to quietly reach any of your remaining weapons to no avail, she had you completely stuck to the wall.

"Ahn... Aren't you suppose to kill only man?" You asked, tilting your head to the side.

She laughed evilly, making shivers run down your spine.

"You still haven't figured it out, have you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sam and Dean were on the other side of the doors, shouting your name desperately and trying to open it, but Sam probably wasn't succeeding with picking the lock. You rolled your eyes and struggled to get rid of the ghost's invisible restraint.  
"Stop fighting." She ordered, her voice echoing all over the kitchen. You obeyed with a scowl. "That's better." The woman smiled sweetly before turning on her heels and walking from one side to the other. "Ever since I've discovered you've been with the Winchesters I knew I could easily drag you to a trap. You fell directly into it." She stopped walking and faced you. "I've waited so long for that moment!"  
"I still have no idea what you're talking about, miss. If you could give a clue..."  
Her smile widened and her eyes turned completely gray.  
"Oh, crap. You're not a ghost, are ya?"  
"Absolutely not. Don't you even dare to compare me to those inferior beings."  
"My head is aching, could you jump to the part where you finish the explanation and I kill you?"  
She laughed. "What makes you think you can just 'kill' me?"  
"You're right. I don't know what you are yet. So, please, explain yourself." You spoke politely and smiled.  
"I'm a demon, the Dimme, to be more specific."  
"Shit! What happened with the simple salt'n'burn?" You muttered to yourself.  
"Don't worry, I ended up with that oaf woman. Can you believe she had the guts to threaten to pull me out of this vessel?" She threw her head back while laughing.  
"So... why are your eyes gray? Aren't they suppose to be black?"  
"Oh, sweetie, there's no use in delaying what you know is coming. I'm not falling into that old trick. Let's go straight to the subject. Your soul belongs to me. I want it, I'll get it. Even if that mean I'll have to rip it out of that precious body of yours."  
"Wait. My soul?" You furrowed your brows in confusion. "I believe there is a misunderstanding here. I don't remember selling my soul."  
"You didn't. I claimed it as my own."  
"What the hell are we talking about?" You grunted, tired of all the talking. It remind you of a lot of movies where the villain would spend hours talking about their plans, just be stopped by the hero.  
"You never heard of the Dimme?"  
"Actually no, I haven't."  
"Well... now you did." She spoke and looked around curiously. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid I forgot my torture instruments back in Hell."  
"Yeah, that's a shame." You agreed with a grin.  
"I guess I'll have to improvise." The demon approached you with confident steps and looked at the ceiling while patting your jacket's pockets, her brows furrowed in concentration. She pulled your pistol out of the bigger pocket. "Nah, too noisy." She threw it behind her shoulder and fumbled with the next pocket, grabbing one of your knives. "Too common." She stated also throwing it. Next, she found the flask.  
The demon shook and opened it, sniffing its content and scowling at the smell. "That would probably cause more damage to me than to you." She carefully walked to the sink and dumped all the holy water down it.  
Dimme pulled the other knife hidden in your boot, throwing it away with a snarky grin and, finally, she found the dagger. The demon twisted the blade in her hands, smirking.  
"That'll do." She said, locking her gray eyes with yours and stabbing your stomach. You screamed in pain and flinched.  
"(y/n)!" Dean yelled and hit the doors with so much strength you felt the wall vibrating. "Sam! What's taking you so long? Find the Goddamn heart!"  
"It's not a fucking ghost. It's a..." You tried to shout back, but suddenly you felt something blocking your throat and preventing you from breathing. Your eyes widened while you desperately tried to pull some air to your lungs.  
"Shut up!" Dimme hissed through clenched teeth, twisting the dagger. As soon as you felt your throat free, you screamed, letting out all level of curses.  
She giggled, pulling the blade out of you and causing another wave of anguish and more swearing.  
"Whatever it is, I'll kill that son of a bitch!" Dean kept saying. You would have chuckled if the pain wasn't that bad.  
"(Y/n)! Just hold on, ok? We're coming." Sam's voice also reached you.  
"Look at that! It seems you already fell into the Winchesters arms!" She happily said, slowly sliding the dagger down your arms, opening a long cut. You hissed, shutting your eyes. "Now that your momma is gone, you'll finally be mine, (y/n). And your friends out there can't do anything." When she said that, the blade was further pressed against your flesh, making you whimper.  
"Why me?" You struggled to ask.

"Because I never give up on a prey. Once mine, always mine." Dimme possessively whispered, using the dagger in your other arm.

You opened your eyes when you couldn't feel the blade anymore and, for one happy second, you thought she was gone, but it didn't take long before she stabbed you again. You bit your lower lip til you were dragging blood out of it.

"Your blood. I've been craving for it since you were just a fetus. I suppose it isn't as good as it was at that time, but it'll be enough to satiate my hunger." She pulled the dagger and licked the blood out of it. "Delicious."

You frowned. "That's... disgusting." You managed to speak through your uneven breath.

"I don't care..."

She was interrupted by the doors being crushed by an axe.

"No! That's unfair! I'm not done yet!" The demon cried out and prepared to zap out with you, but before she could reach you, something hit her side, making her whimper, probably rock salt from one of thei guys' guns. She glared at the door and looked back at you. "I'll come back for you, next time you won't have your precious Winchesters to protect you."

Those were the last words she spoke before vanishing, leaving a trail of sulfur behind her. The force holding you to the wall was suddenly gone and you slid down it until you were sit. Dean kicked the door opened and rushed to you.

"Took you long enough." You said, smirking weakly.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how about three new chapters in a row to compensate for my lack of anything new in so long?
> 
> Thank you all very much for the kudos and comments, you are all very sweet!

You saw Sam coming in right behind Dean and scanning the room.  
"Does it smells like sulfur or is it just me?" He asked, pointing the gun around the kitchen.  
"Nope, I can feel it too." Dean replied, kneeling next to you and stripping his jacket.  
"Easy there, cowboy. I don't feel like doing it right now." You raised one brow, smirking. He rolled his eyes and took off his plaid, laying it over the wounds.  
"Shut up and press it here." Dean ordered holding your hand and placing it over the shirt.  
"Don't be so bossy, Winchester!" You scolded frowning, but obeying.  
He carefully lifted you bridal style and your eyelids grew heavier.  
"Dean?" Sam asked and you could hear the worry in his voice.  
"Yeah?" Dean voiced, making the way back to the Impala.  
"She's blacking out."  
"No shit, Sherlock!"  
"I'm okay." You said, resting your chin on Dean's shoulder and grinning at Sam.  
"No, you're not. You're bleeding out, (y/n), and the lack of blood is making you... dizzy." Sam argued. You giggled, yawning.  
"You're a party popper, you knew that?"  
"Hey! Stay awake, kid." Dean said when he felt your body going limp.  
"Don't worry. I'll just... take a nap." You murmured, pressing your face on his chest. You sighed. "You're really comfy." you mumbled, closing your eyes.  
"No, no, no. Open your eyes, girl."  
You grunted, trying to do as he told, but you discovered you couldn't.  
"Danmit!" He shouted and you didn't even flinched at his sudden burst, too caught up in your own slumber. "Cas! We need you, buddy." He said, looking up to the skies. There was no answer. "C'mon, Cas! (y/n) needs you so you better get your feathery ass down here!" Dean growled.  
A moment of pure tension followed his plead as the three of you stood there, next to the Impala, before you heard the flutter of wings.  
"What happened?"  
"Apparently, she ran into a demon when we supposedly were hunting a single ghost." Sam explained as the angel moved toward you and Dean. He placed his fingers on your forehead and you felt something warm spreading through your body, mainly on your wounds. Castiel analyzed his work and stepped way while you recovered from the shock.  
Suddenly, you were alert. Your eyes shot open and you quickly tapped Dean's chest so he would let go of you. He put you down with ease and you took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air, your hand still on his shoulder to support your balance.  
"It was a fucking trap!" You said, touching your torn shirt. "There is no ghost."  
"What?" Dean questioned frowning.  
"She killed the ghost and kept murdering people to draw your attention, hoping I would come with you."  
"I'm so sorry." Cas muttered.  
"What for?" Sam asked, slightly confused, just as you and Dean.  
"I should have known it was a trap."  
"Don't be an idiot. How could you possibly have known?" You shrugged, brushing your fingers through your hair.  
"Like I said, there is a great quantity of demons after you and there were some odd traces in this specific case." He explained. You sighed and smiled sweetly at him.  
"It's not your fault, Cas. Don't blame yourself." You spoke, patting his shoulder lightly. He smiled and nodded gratefully. You stepped back, taking your hand away from him and glancing down at yourself. You scowled. "Ugh. I feel naked, could someone please bring me my weapons?"  
"I'll go. Wait 'til I'm back before explaining what happened." Sam said, walking back to the abandoned house. You closed your eyes.  
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Dean asked.  
"Just peachy." You bitterly answered, giving him a fake smile and thumbs up. He grinned and leaned his back against the side of the car. You opened your eyes and followed him, mimicking his gestures. He placed his arm on top of the car, wrapping your shoulders.  
"Good to know you're recovered." Dean said.  
"Yeah, I'm happy about that too."  
He chuckled.  
"Where did you keep all of that?" Sam questioned, nesting all your weapons on his arms.  
"My babies!" You beamed, sneaking out of Dean's embrace and rushing toward the younger brother. "Thank God!" You sighed.  
You caught your revolver and hid it on your back, under your waistband. The pistol was next, you put it in a pocket on the inside of your jacket, just as you did to one of the knives, the flask and flashlight, only the other knife remaining, which you placed in the inside of your right boot.  
"I guess that bitch took my dagger." You grunted, making sure Sam didn't have anything else with him.  
"Did you really need it?" Sam smirked, quirking an eyebrow. You glared at him.  
"It was my mother's, moron!" You snapped angrily and regretted as soon as you saw the hurt on his face.  
"Sorry, I..."  
"No. I'm sorry. Almost dying let me a little over the edge." You cut him off, standing in your tiptoes and hugging his neck. "Thanks for getting my stuff."  
"You're welcome." Sam replied, wrapping his arms around your waist.  
"Why are you so tall?" You questioned and your body vibrated with his laughter.  
Dean scoffed. You gently pushed him away and turned to face the others.  
"I suppose I must report what happened in there, right?"  
"Yeah. We were kind of waiting for it." Dean said and there was something aggressive about his tone, but you quickly shrugged it off.  
"Where do I start?"  
"How about the 'it's not a ghost' stuff?"  
"I think it was a demon."  
"What do you mean?" Castiel approached you, tilting his head.  
"I don't know. Aren't demons' eyes supposed to be black?"  
Dean exchanged a look with Sam.  
"Yes, but there a few exceptions. Why? What color were its eyes?" Dean folded his arms, focusing on you.  
"Gray. Like something dusty, you know? She said she burnt the heart before we got here and kept murdering men to call our attention."  
"It worked." Sam stated. You nodded. "Did the demon reveal anything?"  
"She said I knew her, though I'm pretty sure I never saw her before. And she mentioned her name... something like dine... dime maybe. I'm not quite sure."  
"The Dimme?" Castiel asked, his eyes widening.  
"Yes, that's it!"  
"Why would the Dimme be after you?" He wondered, furrowing his brows.  
"She did mentioned something about my soul. She told me I was her prey and once hers, always hers."  
"It makes no sense." Castiel stated walking around. You sighed, heading to where he was and holding him on place by placing your hands on his shoulders.  
"What makes no sense, Cas?" You inquired, looking into his deep blue eyes.  
"I don't know much about the Dimme, but, as far as I'm concerned, this demon has an habit of drinking from newly born blood. She usually menaces women throughout pregnancy. No other demon does the same."  
"Babies' blood and pestering pregnant woman? That's awful." You frowned. "Disgusting actually, but now that you said it, I remember she also spoke something about craving my blood ever since I was a fetus."  
Your eyes widened as other part of your conversation got to your brain. "Mom! The Dimme said now that my mom wasn't on her way... I would be hers."  
"I don't understand." The angel said. You rolled your eyes and let go of his shoulders.  
"Neither do I."  
"What if..." Sam started, but quickly stopped. "No."  
"What?" You inquired curiously.  
"Nothing. Just a bad idea."  
"Let me judge that for you. Tell us."  
Sam sighed and gazed at his brother.  
"Crowley." He simply said.  
"No way!"" Dean urged.  
"Crown-what?" You asked.  
"It seems like a good idea. I believe Crowley might have information about the Dimme." Castiel argued.  
"Anyone cares to tell me who is this crown guy?"  
"A demon we've been gathering information from."  
"You've been gathering information from a demon?! I thought we killed demons!" You placed your hands on your hips, dumbfounded.

"We do, but there's some information you can only get directly from the source." Sam explained, you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I can believe I'm actually asking that, but... When can we meet him?"

Dean sighed. "How about we head to the motel and discuss that later?" He suggested, moving closer to you. You nodded.

"Good idea."

He smiled down at you and placed his hand on the small of your back, dragging you towards the Impala. Dean opened the back door so you could jump in and closed it after you. You quickly lowered the window.

"Cas!" You called before he could vanish.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for healing me."

"You're welcome. I'll meet you at the motel." He replied. You smiled and closed the window as Sam and Dean entered the car.

The drive didn't take long. Soon you reached the motel.  
You were the first one out of the car, snapping the room's keys out of Sam's back pocket and running toward the room.

"Dibs on the shower!" You shouted and got in before Dean could reach you. You quickly grabbed an oversized shirt and boxers out of your duffel back.

"Not fair! I'm soaked in your blood!" He complained, storming in the room right after you.

"Dibs are dibs, man." You said, laughing and shutting the bathroom door on his face. "And you should be glad I'm leaving hot water for you!" You yelled. You heard him grunting something and giggled lightly.

You showered in ten minutes and dressed up. You scowled at your ruined clothing, sighing. At least you managed to save your jacket, boots and underwear. Your shirt and pants were torn and had big scarlet stains. You threw them in the dump and left the bathroom while drying your hair with a towel.

"Shower is free." You announced, grabbing the beer bottle Sam threw your way and sitting next to him.

"Finally!" Dean got up from the small couch and disappeared in the shower.

"So... What's up?" You asked, unclasping the beer and taking a swig.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I found some... really interesting stuff about the Dimme." Sam said, glancing from you to the laptop in front of him.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's here?! Surprise, surprise!

You saw Sam coming in right behind Dean and scanning the room.  
"Does it smells like sulfur or is it just me?" He asked, pointing the gun around the kitchen.  
"Nope, I can feel it too." Dean replied, kneeling next to you and stripping his jacket.  
"Easy there, cowboy. I don't feel like doing it right now." You raised one brow, smirking. He rolled his eyes and took off his plaid, laying it over the wounds.  
"Shut up and press it here." Dean ordered holding your hand and placing it over the shirt.  
"Don't be so bossy, Winchester!" You scolded frowning, but obeying.  
He carefully lifted you bridal style and your eyelids grew heavier.  
"Dean?" Sam asked and you could hear the worry in his voice.  
"Yeah?" Dean voiced, making the way back to the Impala.  
"She's blacking out."  
"No shit, Sherlock!"  
"I'm okay." You said, resting your chin on Dean's shoulder and grinning at Sam.  
"No, you're not. You're bleeding out, (y/n), and the lack of blood is making you... dizzy." Sam argued. You giggled, yawning.  
"You're a party popper, you knew that?"  
"Hey! Stay awake, kid." Dean said when he felt your body going limp.  
"Don't worry. I'll just... take a nap." You murmured, pressing your face on his chest. You sighed. "You're really comfy." you mumbled, closing your eyes.  
"No, no, no. Open your eyes, girl."  
You grunted, trying to do as he told, but you discovered you couldn't.  
"Danmit!" He shouted and you didn't even flinched at his sudden burst, too caught up in your own slumber. "Cas! We need you, buddy." He said, looking up to the skies. There was no answer. "C'mon, Cas! (y/n) needs you so you better get your feathery ass down here!" Dean growled.  
A moment of pure tension followed his plead as the three of you stood there, next to the Impala, before you heard the flutter of wings.  
"What happened?"  
"Apparently, she ran into a demon when we supposedly were hunting a single ghost." Sam explained as the angel moved toward you and Dean. He placed his fingers on your forehead and you felt something warm spreading through your body, mainly on your wounds. Castiel analyzed his work and stepped way while you recovered from the shock.  
Suddenly, you were alert. Your eyes shot open and you quickly tapped Dean's chest so he would let go of you. He put you down with ease and you took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air, your hand still on his shoulder to support your balance.  
"It was a fucking trap!" You said, touching your torn shirt. "There is no ghost."  
"What?" Dean questioned frowning.  
"She killed the ghost and kept murdering people to draw your attention, hoping I would come with you."  
"I'm so sorry." Cas muttered.  
"What for?" Sam asked, slightly confused, just as you and Dean.  
"I should have known it was a trap."  
"Don't be an idiot. How could you possibly have known?" You shrugged, brushing your fingers through your hair.  
"Like I said, there is a great quantity of demons after you and there were some odd traces in this specific case." He explained. You sighed and smiled sweetly at him.  
"It's not your fault, Cas. Don't blame yourself." You spoke, patting his shoulder lightly. He smiled and nodded gratefully. You stepped back, taking your hand away from him and glancing down at yourself. You scowled. "Ugh. I feel naked, could someone please bring me my weapons?"  
"I'll go. Wait 'til I'm back before explaining what happened." Sam said, walking back to the abandoned house. You closed your eyes.  
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Dean asked.  
"Just peachy." You bitterly answered, giving him a fake smile and thumbs up. He grinned and leaned his back against the side of the car. You opened your eyes and followed him, mimicking his gestures. He placed his arm on top of the car, wrapping your shoulders.  
"Good to know you're recovered." Dean said.  
"Yeah, I'm happy about that too."  
He chuckled.  
"Where did you keep all of that?" Sam questioned, nesting all your weapons on his arms.  
"My babies!" You beamed, sneaking out of Dean's embrace and rushing toward the younger brother. "Thank God!" You sighed.  
You caught your revolver and hid it on your back, under your waistband. The pistol was next, you put it in a pocket on the inside of your jacket, just as you did to one of the knives, the flask and flashlight, only the other knife remaining, which you placed in the inside of your right boot.  
"I guess that bitch took my dagger." You grunted, making sure Sam didn't have anything else with him.  
"Did you really need it?" Sam smirked, quirking an eyebrow. You glared at him.  
"It was my mother's, moron!" You snapped angrily and regretted as soon as you saw the hurt on his face.  
"Sorry, I..."  
"No. I'm sorry. Almost dying let me a little over the edge." You cut him off, standing in your tiptoes and hugging his neck. "Thanks for getting my stuff."  
"You're welcome." Sam replied, wrapping his arms around your waist.  
"Why are you so tall?" You questioned and your body vibrated with his laughter.  
Dean scoffed. You gently pushed him away and turned to face the others.  
"I suppose I must report what happened in there, right?"  
"Yeah. We were kind of waiting for it." Dean said and there was something aggressive about his tone, but you quickly shrugged it off.  
"Where do I start?"  
"How about the 'it's not a ghost' stuff?"  
"I think it was a demon."  
"What do you mean?" Castiel approached you, tilting his head.  
"I don't know. Aren't demons' eyes supposed to be black?"  
Dean exchanged a look with Sam.  
"Yes, but there a few exceptions. Why? What color were its eyes?" Dean folded his arms, focusing on you.  
"Gray. Like something dusty, you know? She said she burnt the heart before we got here and kept murdering men to call our attention."  
"It worked." Sam stated. You nodded. "Did the demon reveal anything?"  
"She said I knew her, though I'm pretty sure I never saw her before. And she mentioned her name... something like dine... dime maybe. I'm not quite sure."  
"The Dimme?" Castiel asked, his eyes widening.  
"Yes, that's it!"  
"Why would the Dimme be after you?" He wondered, furrowing his brows.  
"She did mentioned something about my soul. She told me I was her prey and once hers, always hers."  
"It makes no sense." Castiel stated walking around. You sighed, heading to where he was and holding him on place by placing your hands on his shoulders.  
"What makes no sense, Cas?" You inquired, looking into his deep blue eyes.  
"I don't know much about the Dimme, but, as far as I'm concerned, this demon has an habit of drinking from newly born blood. She usually menaces women throughout pregnancy. No other demon does the same."  
"Babies' blood and pestering pregnant woman? That's awful." You frowned. "Disgusting actually, but now that you said it, I remember she also spoke something about craving my blood ever since I was a fetus."  
Your eyes widened as other part of your conversation got to your brain. "Mom! The Dimme said now that my mom wasn't on her way... I would be hers."  
"I don't understand." The angel said. You rolled your eyes and let go of his shoulders.  
"Neither do I."  
"What if..." Sam started, but quickly stopped. "No."  
"What?" You inquired curiously.  
"Nothing. Just a bad idea."  
"Let me judge that for you. Tell us."  
Sam sighed and gazed at his brother.  
"Crowley." He simply said.  
"No way!"" Dean urged.  
"Crown-what?" You asked.  
"It seems like a good idea. I believe Crowley might have information about the Dimme." Castiel argued.  
"Anyone cares to tell me who is this crown guy?"  
"A demon we've been gathering information from."  
"You've been gathering information from a demon?! I thought we killed demons!" You placed your hands on your hips, dumbfounded.

"We do, but there's some information you can only get directly from the source." Sam explained, you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I can believe I'm actually asking that, but... When can we meet him?"

Dean sighed. "How about we head to the motel and discuss that later?" He suggested, moving closer to you. You nodded.

"Good idea."

He smiled down at you and placed his hand on the small of your back, dragging you towards the Impala. Dean opened the back door so you could jump in and closed it after you. You quickly lowered the window.

"Cas!" You called before he could vanish.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for healing me."

"You're welcome. I'll meet you at the motel." He replied. You smiled and closed the window as Sam and Dean entered the car.

The drive didn't take long. Soon you reached the motel.  
You were the first one out of the car, snapping the room's keys out of Sam's back pocket and running toward the room.

"Dibs on the shower!" You shouted and got in before Dean could reach you. You quickly grabbed an oversized shirt and boxers out of your duffel back.

"Not fair! I'm soaked in your blood!" He complained, storming in the room right after you.

"Dibs are dibs, man." You said, laughing and shutting the bathroom door on his face. "And you should be glad I'm leaving hot water for you!" You yelled. You heard him grunting something and giggled lightly.

You showered in ten minutes and dressed up. You scowled at your ruined clothing, sighing. At least you managed to save your jacket, boots and underwear. Your shirt and pants were torn and had big scarlet stains. You threw them in the dump and left the bathroom while drying your hair with a towel.

"Shower is free." You announced, grabbing the beer bottle Sam threw your way and sitting next to him.

"Finally!" Dean got up from the small couch and disappeared in the shower.

"So... What's up?" You asked, unclasping the beer and taking a swig.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I found some... really interesting stuff about the Dimme." Sam said, glancing from you to the laptop in front of him.  
"Go ahead." You encoraged, placing the beer on the table. Sam sighed.

"The Dimme is... worse than we thought. You might have heard of it by the name Lamashtu, from Summerian mythology."

"Not that I remeber." You said leaning your back on the chair and putting your legs up to rest on the table.

"I understand what Cas meant now. This doesn't make any sense. The Dimme kidnaps infants during breast-feeding phase, suck their blood and chew their bones, though I'm pretty sure the last part is fake."

"Ok, Cas kinda already said that. What does it have to do with me? Because I'm definitely not pregnant."

"That's my point!" Sam threw his hands up exasperated. "I can't find a pattern on this demon behavior. Listen to that: Its hobbies include spreading diseases, killing plantations, infesting rivers and lakes and bringing nightmares. What is that suppose to mean?"

You shrugged. "Maybe Dean is right. Demons don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake." You quoted.

"Then why you?" Sam questioned.

"Why not?" You promptly replied. He shook his head.

"No. I'm sure there is a reason behind her actions. You said the Dimme mentioned your mother. She planned it."

"If she does have one, how are we suppose to find her purpose?"

"I don't know."

You heard the now familiar flutter of wings.

"Cas! Decided to join the party?" You happily greeted the angel, lifting your bottle in a toast, before down a large sip.

"I thought we were here to discuss the Dimme, not to have a party." Castiel stated, tilting his head. You rolled your eyes.

"Is called irony, dumbass."

He nodded, but you were sure he hadn't quite caught what you meant.

"How can you be so chilled when there is an old demons after you?" Sam frowned.

"I have you to protect me." You playfully said, winking at him.

The bathroom door swung open and Dean left the room wearing only boxer shorts and a grey shirt, his hair dampened.

"The fun can start now!" You spoke and quickly added: "Irony, Cas!"

Dean pulled a chair, sitting next to you. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you so we can talk to the crown guy."

"No! We are not summoning Crowley." Dean stated, taking the beer out of your hand and downing it.

"Hey!" You shouted, trying to get it back before he could finish it.

You two ended up on the floor laughing and the empty bottle rolling out of his hand.

Castiel stooped next to you. "Are you injured?" He asked.

You wiped a tear of joy from your eye. "No, I'm fine." You said, accepting his help to get up. " Thanks." You said, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and going back to your seat.

"When did you two started getting along?" Sam signed to you and Dean.

"Since I discovered Dean is a cuddl-..." You were cut off by a hand covering your mouth.

"Enough! Let's focus on the main subject!" Dean intervened before you could burn his reputation.

You bit his hand and ignored his complaint.

"Fine. Let's summon the crown guy." You kicked Dean's chair leg, making him fall again. "And don't you dare try to stop me." You told him.

~ Time skip brought to you by the Trickster ~

Cas had found the herbs and Sam had lit the candles and lined it with the sigil Dean drew, while you prepared a hidden demon's trap.

"Et ad congregandum... Eos coram me." You quietly said, letting the blood of a small cut in the palm of your hand fall onto the bowl of herbs. Dean threw a matchstick into the bowl, setting the herbs on flames.

You sighed and stepped back, placing the bowl on the floor and cleaning the cut.

"Now what?"

"We wait." Dean grunted, still mad you insisted on meeting the demon. You sat on the edge of one of the beds, absently cleaning your gun.

"Hello boys." The voice made you jump, startled, and pull the pistol, which was in line for cleaning service. A man on his forties casually leaning against the table. "And girl."

"So... You're the crown guy?" You looked at his feet and smirked when you realized he was standing in your Vaseline trap.

"The name's Crowley, pet."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We have a few questions for you." You stated, lowering your gun.

"And what make you think I will answer them?"

"Maybe the fact that you have no choice but do it if you want us to release you." Sam suggested matter-of-factly.

"Wha-...?" You took a black light flashlight from your back pocket and pointed to the ground, revealing your trap. You smirked.

"My idea." You proudly stated.

He growled, rolling his eyes.

"Fine. What can I do for you?" Crowley gave you a sarcastic grin. You smiled sweetly.

"Just tell me all you know about the Dimme."

A look of recognition crossed his face.

"(y/n) (l/n)! It's been a long time! Let me tell you, your grew up absolutely great, my dear."

"What... How...?" You took a step back, shocked.

"How do you know her name?" Dean kicked in, angrily shouting at the demon.

"Calm down, squirrel." Crowley spat at Dean and smiled at you. "You obviously don't remember me, but I'm the reason you're alive."

He paused, his mischievously eyes making holes in you. You pointed the pistol at his head.

"You better start talking before I shove all my bullets in that stupid head of yours!" You threatened, pulling the hammer and glaring at Crowley. He sighed and conjured a glass of scotch.

"I see you have your mother's genes. Whew are your manners, love?" Crowley quirked an eyebrow and pulled a chair that was inside his trap, sitting down. "Please, point your weapon down so we can have a civilized conversation."

You took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. "Spit it out." You growled, placing the pistol at your side. Sam sat next to you and Dean stood on his spot across the room, while Cas just kept standing.

"Lamashtu. That's her real name. She is one of the oldest and most powerful demons, you certainly wouldn't want to mess with her. She was originally a female, but that's all I know about her living time."

"Unfortunately, we already messed with her." Dean spoke. "What we want to know is where the demon is so we can send the bitch back to hell."

"It is not that simple. She can't be killed with your usual methods, though the Colt could work, I doubt there are many other ways of destroying her. Lamashtu doesn't answer to any god, man or demon and her wrath is feared by most of the creatures."

"Great!" You cheered. "An indestructible demon who wants my soul! Just great!"

"Aren't you curious, pet? About why she wants you of all people."

"Actually... yes, I am. Can you answer that?" You questioned.

"It's a long story." Crowley stated.

"Do you see us going anywhere? I don't think so and, as far as I know, neither are you." You said, signing at the trap. He sighed.

"The Dimme has a... strange hunger for infant's blood and you were her prey. She started following your mother as soon as she discovered her pregnancy, claiming you as her belonging once you were born."

"But (y/n) is not child, why would...?"

"Don't interrupt, moose!" Crowley cut Sam off and you giggled at the nickname. "That's why Mary made a deal and it's also where I came in."

"My mom wouldn't make a deal! She..."

"She did!" He spat. "Can I please continue my story?"

You rolled your eyes. "Just get to the point, Crowley!"

"She asked me for a hiding for both of you, a place where Lamashtu wouldn't be able to find you."

"And what was your price?" Dean asked.

"Her soul, obviously. But considering it was a very simple request I granted I would only take her soul when she finished training you. Unfortunately, a disease ended her life before I could get to it, breaking the deal and revealing you to the World."

"Again, I'm not a child. Why is she after me?"

"You've met her, haven't you? Crowley asked, raising his brows. "I believe you can answer your own question. Your head isn't there just to look pretty, love."

"Once her prey, always her prey. It's a matter of pride for her!" You stated.

"There you have it." He raised his glass and smiled. " Can I go now?"

"Not yet. You haven't answered one very important question." Castiel spoke for the fist time since Crowley's arrival.

"And that would be...?"

"How to defeat Lamashtu without the Colt."

"Oh, that!" Crowley said, nodding. "It's a good question. I believe your Angel blade may be useful, but if it doesn't work only one other demon knows what to do."

"Who?" You asked curiously.

"Pazuzu."

"Like 'The Exorcist's' Pazuzu?"

"That would be him."

"Holy crap! Pazuzu is freaking real!"

"Trust me, he is far worse than the portrayed on the movie. He is Lamashtu's worst enemy and one of the only demons who happen to be as powerful as her."

"Ok. Thanks for the information." You got up and neared the trap against Cas, Sam and Dean's protests. "It was really useful. Would you mind if I asked for one last favor?" You questioned, bashing your eyelashes seductively. Crowley got up and stood right in front of you, only one thin line separating you.

"I'll see what I can do for you, pet." He purred. You smiled.

"Could you, please, discover where she is or how to find her?"

"I'll ask around hell." Crowley promised.

"Thank you." You quietly said before scratching the trap open.

He smirked and, in a heartbeat, he was gone. Only a red rose left where he was standing. You caught it and turned around to find three angry men, well, two men and one angel, glaring at you.

"What?"

"Were you seriously flirting with a demon?"

You shrugged.

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It was a really dangerous move, (y/n)." Castiel said.

"See?! Even Cas knows it was stupid!" Sam stated. You rolled your eyes and grinned.

"It worked just fine, I have no idea why are the three of you freaking out about the fact I flirted with Crowley. In the end, i got what I wanted."

Dean grunted.

"God! You're so stubborn!"

"Yes, I am! Got a problem with that, Winchester? Get in the line! And that's valid for you too!" You said, pointing towards Sam and Castiel.

Sam gave you one of his infamous bitch faces.


	13. Chapter 12

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly. No demons, no blood, only a small amount of arguments, which was common when spending so much time with the Winchesters.

Sam kept his eyes on his laptop, scanning the most promising web pages, but wasn't having much luck so far. Crowley had actually given some pretty useful information and it was all you got.

You took all your mother's belongings out of your duffel bag and started analyzing it, searching for any clue of her involvement with Lamashtu. You opened the small wooden box and fished through the photographs, expecting to find one you hadn't seen yet.

"We should call Bobby." You suggested. Dean looked up from the television screen and nodded.

"I'll call." He said, jumping from the bed and grabbing a cell phone. He caught a jacket and went outside, shutting the door behind his back. 

You shrugged and placed the box on the table, near an old notebook, an agenda and another small box with her 'jewelry' (which consisted on some odd necklaces, ear rings and huge rings - you never saw her using any of them, though). You moved to the minibar, opening and examining the interior of it. You grasped two bottles of beer and waved it in front of Sam.

"Want one?"

He smiled, taking one. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." You replied, plopping yourself down on a chair beside him. "Found anything?"

"I didn't find much about Lamashtu. Actually, I started researching Pazuzu."

"And...?"

"King of demons of wind, son of a unimportant god and represents drought. Pregnant women used to summon him to protect their unborn child from Lamashtu and, surprisingly, he did it asking nothing in return. Pazuzu is an evil spirit, nonetheless his figure was embed in amulets because he kept other spirits away."

"Summing up, what you're saying is that he is so terrible other demons tended to run from him?"

"Pretty much."

"Sweet." You had barely finished muttering the word when you heard the shouting outside. And it sounded like... "Dean?" You questioned, getting up and yanking the door open, Sam hot on your heels.

"God danmit, Bobby! I know! Cas - " He was cut off by yelling coming from the other side of the line, you could hear the words idjts, dangerous and your name coming from the phone. Dean held it far from his ear, sighing. "I know!" He shouted. You folded your arms and raised a brow, leaning against the door frame and waiting for him to notice you. "Listen, I -" Dean growled, once more being shut by Bobby's angry voice. He turned around sharply and met your gaze.

You could still hear Bobby, but he lowered the phone.

"What happened?" You asked.

"I told him about yesterday and he just freaked out." Dean explained. You smiled and walked towards him.

"Here. Let me talk to him." You said, stretching your arm with your palm held up. He rolled his eyes and gave you the cell.

"Good luck."

"I don't need." You said before starting the conversation. "Hey, Bobby." You greeted him, cutting off his chatter.

"Oh. Hey, kiddo. How are you?" Bobby's tone decreased considerably.

"Peachy. Cas fixed me up. I'm in one piece." You assured him. "What about you?"

"You got me worried for a while, (y/n)." He stated, still mad. 

"Well, you shouldn't worry. It's bad for your heart, old man."

"(y/n)..." He grunted. You laughed, walking back into the room.

"Just kidding. Seriously, I'm fine. And I don't think the demon bitch will come back soon."

"What makes you think that?"

"She said something about coming back when I don't have the dumb brothers around me. My words, she was more kind."

You closed the door and sat on the bed. Bobby couldn't help but chuckle at your remark. "Then you better stick to those two idjts, you heard me?"

"I will."

"Good." He paused. "Is that what you called me for?"

"Nope. We wanted to ask you if you ever heard of the Lamashtu, also known as Dimme."

"I know a bit about it. Is that the demon who's bothering you?"

"That's her. Would you mind checking on your books about it?"

"I'll start right away."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Sure thing. Take care, kid."

"You too. Bye."

He finished the call and you threw the cell phone to Dean.

"How the hell did you do it?" He asked, shocked with how easily you dealt with Bobby.

"All you gotta do is talk nicely, Dean. You should try it some day." You mocked, grinning at him. Dean rolled his eyes and returned his focus to what he had been doing while you talked to Bobby. You froze.

"This is creepy. I mean... your mother and you are just... identical!" He commented, frowning at the picture in his hand. "Look at that, Sammy." Dean handed the photo to his brother, taking a new one from the mess of photographs you let on the table.

"Dean... What do you think you're doing?" You questioned slowly, trying to keep it cool even when you were boiling up inside. He glanced up at you, realizing how angry you were and gulped.

"I'm just... checking the pics."

"And who said you could check my pics" You quickly made your way towards Dean, taking the picture from him and sliding all of the remaining photos from the table surface to the box, not minding if any of them got creased or even ripped. 

"Well, it was all sprawled over the table and you said it could help us. What did you expect me to do?"

"You should have asked first, jerk." You closed the box's lid and shoved it into your bag, quickly zipping it up.

"Wait! You forgot one." Sam said shaking the photo in the air. Dean pulled it from him and stared at the picture.

"What is it about those pictures that you don't want us to see?" He questioned more to himself than to you.

"Dean! Give it back!" You whined, trying to reach it, but he extended his arm up, taking it out of your range. "Damn it, Dean!" You cursed, jumping and almost clinging to his arm.

"You won't have it until I discover what you're hiding."

"Just give it to her, Dean." Sam sighed.

You climbed on a chair, struggling to get hold of it, but he kept his hand as far from you as possible, his eyes still roaming through the photo.

"Is that Bobby?" He asked. You took the chance and snapped it out of his hand.

"I don't think so." You quietly answered.

"It looked a hell lot like him."

"Your point being?" You tousled the photograph between your finger, glaring at him.

"He was hugging your mother." Dean stated smirking. You sighed. "It seemed more than just a friendly hug..."

"Just shut up, Dean. Please." You said, closing your eyes.

"I was right. Bobby did date your mother."

You hugged your own form, feeling as tears started forming in your eyes.

"Maybe." You whispered.

"Ha!"

"Dean!" Sam hissed, noticing the tears streaming down your face. Dean looked from his brother to you and his eyes widened in shock.

"What-"

"I'll go... I-I'll go to the library. Maybe I can find something there." You announced, cleaning your face, grabbing a jacket and heading to the door.

"What's wrong with you?!" Sam snapped as soon as you closed the door and you could still hear him.

"How was I suppose to know she would react like that?"

"Stop pushing the girl, Dean. You did the same in the car."

"But what if..." Dean's voice was getting lower and lower as you moved away until you couldn't hear it anymore. 

You dressed your jacked and started walking down the street. The library was at least 5 miles away from the motel you were staying at, but you didn't mind, you needed the time to cool off. 

You'd planned on telling Bobby the truth after a while, but 3 months had gone by and you were comfortable with your current situation. He treated you as his daughter without knowing you truly were related. Things would get awkward if he did. You couldn't afford to ruin the team dynamic when everything seemed to be going so well.

Something about that subject always let you edgy and you couldn't stand to discuss it. Dean and Sam probably guessed Bobby was your father by now just because of how you snapped at them.

After half a hour you were still half way to city's core, where the library was. You weren't paying much attention to your steps, but automatically stopped in your track when someone tapped your shoulder. Out of instinct, you turned back, kicking their legs and knocking the person. You pulled the gun from the back of your pants and aimed at the fallen guy.

"Don't shoot! Please!" He screamed in a high-pitch tone. You gulped down your laughter, trying to keep your face strait and decided that was definitely not a demon's behavior. You sighed, putting the gun back and offering your hand. You wondered how such a heavy guy could act so girly. he used your hand to anchor himself up.

"Sorry, bad habit. I'm agent Smith." You lied, cursing yourself for forgetting the fake badge. If he asked to see it you would be cornered.

"F.B.I.?" The man frowned.

"Yes." You coldly replied. "What do you want? I would appreciate if you make it quick, I need to go back... I'm in the middle of a job."

"Oh. S-Sorry. I-I just wanted to ask the time." 

You glanced at your pulse watch. "twenty-five past six." You said droningly.

"Thank you."

"No problem." You replied, waving as he walked away. You sighed and glanced at the watch again. "Crap. It's getting late."

"Excuse me, miss." Another voice called. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes?" You asked, your eyes meeting an old lady who grinned widely.

"Are you (y/n) (l/n)?" She asked, approaching you limping. You stepped back carefully.

"Who wants to know?"

"Oh, dear. Your worst nightmare." She whispered and laughed. You grabbed the gun again and your hands shook as you pointed it towards her. "No, no. That's no way of treating an elder woman, child." You narrowed your eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Your memory is worse than I thought. You met a few hours ago... don't you remember?" She looked around and then at you."You better watch your movements. People are starting to notice. I'm a poor old lady, they might thing you're a mugger with the weapons and clothes."

"Don't try to trick me. I know what you're doing. Tell me what you want or I'll shoot." You talked through gritted teeth. She smirked.

"I want your dead body teared in pieces. I want your blood all over the floor. I want you to meet your mother in hell. You little bitch..." The Dimme growled lowly at you. And even when it came from an old person, it felt terrifying. You could feel the demons staring right back at your eyes. 

Suddenly, your breath got caught in your throat. You opened your mouth, but no sound left your parted lips. Your eyes widened. She smirked.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

You tried to shoot, but your fingers were numb, just like all the rest of your body. You felt the world spinning around you, your lungs aching for air. Lamashtu burst into a maniac laughter that froze your blood.

You heard your name being shouted far away and the demon swearing before a light gray smoke left the old woman's mouth, disappearing in the air. You dropped the gun and collapsed onto your knees, your hands flying to your throat, like if the gesture could help the air to come back faster. You felt an arm sneaking around your shoulders and helping you up. They were saying something, but you couldn't discern the words. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, the beginning of a strong headache hitting you.

"...answer." You managed to understand the last word and recognize the voice.

"What?" You questioned Sam, confused.

"Thank God!" He muttered, pushing you flush against his body. "You scared me... us."

"She escaped." You stated. Sam realized how long he had been holding you and let you go, nodding. You sighed.

"Are you out of your freakin' mind?! You just left, alone, when there is a crazy bitch out there after you! We might not get to save your sorry ass in time next time, princess!" Dean snapped. You blinked at him, surprised with his bursting. He growled and turned on his heels, heading towards the parked Impala. You observed as he turned the engine on and drove away, letting you and Sam.

"Again? Why does he always snaps at me?"

"Sorry about that. He came to apologize, but... You know how he is. Unfortunately, Dean is right. You shouldn't have gone out by yourself."

"I know. I just... couldn't think properly."

"Come on. We should go back. The sun is setting." Sam stated, hugging your shoulders and walking with you.

"How long 'til we meet Pazuzu?"

"You're really anxious for it, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. I mean, it's Pazuzu we're talking about, there's a movie about him!"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're crazy."

"No. I'm just fangirling over a demon."

"And that's crazy."

"Hey! You're the one who dated a demon!"

Sam glared down at you, but couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face as hearing your soft giggle. You leaned your head against his side.

"Is it true?" He quietly asked.

"What?"

"Dean's... theory. About you and... Bobby." He hesitated on the words, thinking it might be a bad idea to push you any further.

"Listen. I wanted to tell Bobby, but I just postponed it every time I had the chance. I don't have the guts to say it to him and I want you to promise you won't do it neither. At least not until I'm ready."

"Ok. We will tell him when you're ready."

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Don't! You know I don't like being called... this."

"Sammy?" You provoked, smirking. "Why? Because it reminds you of a chubby twelve year old?"

He rolled his eyes and, to your disappointment, didn't reply, but let his arm fall from around you. The night fell and with it the drizzle.

"You better run, Sammy, otherwise your hair will get frizzy." You sang mockingly. Sam glared at you and you chuckled when he started running.


End file.
